


Mother Hearts

by shutupeccles



Category: NaPolA | Before the Fall (2004)
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Angst, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 15:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupeccles/pseuds/shutupeccles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two mothers suspect the deep friendship between their sons has evolved into romance. Their situations and husbands are entirely different, leading them to react in different ways as private connections between Albrecht and Friedrich become public.</p><p>Chapter 1 - Frau Stein. Approval of the friendship becomes confusion and then disgust. Albrecht's suicide forces her to consider the behaviour of those closest to him, including herself. What role did each play in his downfall? Who is to shoulder the blame and whom should be forgiven?</p><p>Chapter 2 - Mother Weimer. Letters from Friedrich begin to create suspicion and then worry. His unexpected return from NaPolA confirms many of her fears while putting one to rest. Can she let Friedrich stay or must she force him to leave?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mother Stein

Albrecht had always been a prolific writer of long letters. Heinrich never read them. After a short while Frau Stein read only the open and close of each, keeping her responses short and infrequent so her son may learn to curb his communication. It made no difference. One name appeared several times in the first and last paragraphs of Albrecht's most recent letter, prompting her to read the entire thing. This same name featured at least twice on each page: Friedrich Wiemer, Friedrich said, Friedrich did, Friedrich agrees, Friedrich does not share my opinion, Friedrich could achieve, unlike Friedrich, Friedrich, Friedrich.

Heinrich's frequent transfers often made socialising difficult for Albrecht. Weimer was Allenstein Napola's newest star and their friendship provided an opportunity for Albrecht to attract paternal approval rather than scorn. He was entitled to boast. Co-producing the student newsletter obviously pleased Albrecht but meant nothing to Gauleiter Stein, particularly when compared to being Friedrich Weimer's comrade.

"Perhaps he can encourage Albrecht to exercise beyond sharpening pencils!" Her husband's attempt to joke only increased the insult. Albrecht could not help being shaped after his mother's family rather than the stockier Steins. No amount of physical labour and red meat would alter that fact. At least his head wasn't filled with fat!

His next letter gave cause for concern. Frau Stein kept this to herself although her worry grew with each correspondence. Her fears were confirmed when Albrecht brought the infamous Friedrich Weimer to Heinrich's kabutz. Weimer was Albrecht's physical opposite, an incredibly attractive, tall and athletic Aryan Adonis, and Albrecht was clearly smitten with his companion. Worse yet, the infatuation appeared to be mutual. How were the men ignorant of this glaring fault in Friedrich's perfection? She wondered that they missed the subtle, reflexive ways the pair deferred to each other. They frequently made unintentional yet entirely intimate gestures and remarks. Behaviours typical of oblivious young lovers caught in the precursory waves of titanic romance coloured every exchange. These officers saw nothing beyond the alpha and omega of German youth. Heinrich must share his wife's suspicions regarding their son. Why else take such pains to destroy Albrecht in the eyes of one so admired? If only her husband shared her doubts about Friedrich.

Heinrich confided in his wife as she helped him undress for bed. He had a valet of course but this was often the only time they had alone. He thanked her for an entertaining and productive evening before mentioning the young men. “He'll no doubt hope to become Friedrich rather than bed him after this evening's lesson. Friedrich now sees what manner of weakling he has befriended and will either ensure Albrecht trains properly or shall withdraw from the situation before this canker spreads."

Frau smiled with heartfelt relief. "They will both be better for it." She kissed her husband’s cheek and prepared herself for bed.

Albrecht chose a breakfast seat far enough from Friedrich to indicate a breach without drawing comparison to a lover's quarrel. He did not speak. Friedrich's two attempts at conversation were ignored. Eventually Friedrich's mannerisms caused Frau Stein concern. He continually looked to Albrecht for clues on how to proceed. This could be explained by the fact that he’d been raised as a civilian until the school year began if he didn’t then follow Albrecht’s example with great reluctance. His shoulders shifted to indicate submission but his eyes alternated between determination and confusion, as though he believed Albrecht was his without truly understanding what their connection had been. Albrecht clearly understood the danger and despised this newest weakness. The atmosphere grew heavy as the meal continued. The scene would be heartbreaking had it been played out between boy and girl. As things stood Frau Stein could only feel proud of her son’s detachment. Albrecht maintained his unfriendly distance from Friedrich as they moved through the house and ensured they did not walk to the car together. His mother kissed him goodbye without voicing her pride. His private triumph would be undermined by making it public, even between only the two of them.

"The journey back provided an eerie contrast to the friendly humour of the same passengers on Sunday," Johan said solemnly. "I swear young master Stein dropped weight overnight. Did he take ill?"

Frau Stein put an end to Johan's conjecture with a false smile of assurance. "The ailment has reached its final stages and full recovery is imminent." She believed this to be true, provided Friedrich Weimer left Albrecht alone.

The next letter fit on a single page and contained no mention of the lauded boxer. Albrecht's style had lost its flourish in favour of abrupt formality. These changes should have made Frau Stein incredibly pleased but she sensed something sinister swam beneath the surface. His previous letters could almost be classed as literature and there had been a sense of joy behind her son's uninhibited confidence. Now his thoughts were guarded. Albrecht had either carved out his heart after the kabutz or he now had something to hide. Neither possibility appealed. Polite enquiries after Friedrich's health went unaddressed in Albrecht's meticulous reply. His correspondence became nothing more than impersonal statements of fact, as though he couldn't be bothered writing at all. Every mother anticipated losing her son to love as he matured, but to a wife, not... _this!_ The prospect was abominable.

"See the result of your display," she told Heinrich one morning as she pressed three examples of Albrecht's writing on the dressing table. The earliest was dated before Heinrich's birthday, the second during the week after and the most recent received yesterday. "You strengthened their infatuation by insulting Albrecht and praising the object of temptation."

Heinrich skimmed the content. "If anything this proves the danger has passed."

"Illiterate fool. The only lesson our son has learned is to lie to his mother!"

An authoritative voice from downstairs called for Gauleiter Stein, sparing her from Heinrich's wrath. He ensured she had no opportunity to raise the topic again.

* * *

"Come. We've been summoned to the school." Heinrich said with weighted precision.

"What embarrassment has Albrecht supposed to have caused you now?" Frau Stein asked bitterly.

"They will not say." Heinrich could not meet her eye.

Her reprimand took the form of a question as she took her coat. "Would it involve Friedrich Weimer by chance?" She said nothing else until after they'd been informed of her son's death.

"He was simply too weak," Heinrich told the window as she wept. He would never share her grief. No doubt all Heinrich felt was relief since Albrecht had been a perpetual source of disappointment. Why was that when Albrecht achieved the highest academic grades of his year in every school he attended?

"A school with girls would make him more effeminate, you said. Ha, Heinrich. Ha!" she exclaimed to her husband's back.

"Be still."

How dare he intrude upon her misery with such pathetic words? She could not suffer in silence yet did not raise her voice. Posture and tone provided cutting emphasis.

"I have read his final essay despite your efforts to hide it from me. I am not surprised if he died to escape the burden of having you for a father as much as his ill-directed affection for Friedrich. He was more ashamed of you, to be associated with you than you will ever be of him. What right have you to make my pride in his achievements feel equally shameful?”

“You thought as I did! Excessive grief distorts your opinion.”

Truly, under current circumstances she was willing to forgive her son every sin – almost every sin. Her grief was terrible, yes, but not excessive. “My son died shielding his heart from me. His heart Heinrich, I used to feel it beating within my womb as he grew. Once he yearned to tell me everything. Now the last words he offered me are empty nothing!” Albrecht had tried to confide in her at Heinrich’s birthday and she had dismissed him so casually – _“You’ll tell me later.”_ But he never had. She would never know whether her son had been troubled or proud in that moment. No doubt any death note was addressed to his partner in abomination since his mother received none. “You cannot begin to know my desolation. School after horrid school because you could not accept Albrecht will never look or think like you! Always grabbing the scruff of Albrecht's neck to turn his head saying "Look at that boy, see this one, appreciate how perfect they are, physically ideal." He did as you said."

"Have you finished with this foolishness you feeble woman?"

"Oh no Heinrich, that is merely the root of a great forest of foolishness for now I question your obsession with these young men. Do you despise Albrecht because one held him in such high esteem while none spared a thought for you?"

"Unless you can speak sanely you shall _**remain silent!**_ "

"Is all well Gauleiter Stein?" Anstaltsleiter Klein enquired through the door.

Heinrich bade him enter. "It has been suggested Friedrich Weimer may have contributed to Albrecht's behaviour. Disturbing changes in manner and attitude have arisen since they became acquainted."

His wife remained silent, marvelling at his ability to speak with detached authority as though the Albrecht he discussed was not their son, his son, _hers_. Klein placed blame entirely at the dead boy's feet. Drowned and slowly frozen to death, solid, somewhere within this school's boundaries. Frau stifled a new sniffle of grief as Klein assured them Albrecht's affections had never been returned beyond fraternal bonds of comradeship. Friedrich Weimer would remain perfect, unscathed while Albrecht became an example of absolute wretchedness. How was that fair?

“Weimer will fight for Allenstein on Saturday?” Heinrich asked as though this was of utmost importance to Fuhrer’s success.

Frau Stein hated her husband in that moment. She wanted to hate Albrecht too, as Heinrich did, but her loss was too great. Memories of a little boy and aspirations for his future were too fresh. Once the natural instinct to mourn had passed, perhaps then she could wash her hands of him properly.

“Your indulgence during his youth is the cause of this,” Heinrich said in low accusation. “Had you refrained from praising his paper dreams and grounded him in reality he…”

Frau Stein did not contradict her husband. For the next few days she spoke only to arrange the household and associated staff. Silence allowed her to function.

Heinrich attended the boxing match so vital to the war effort. He returned in a greater state of agitation than he’d displayed after hearing of their son’s death. Frau did not care to know why. Unfortunately he did not bother seeking her permission before confiding.

“We were lied to. Weimer’s influence on Albrecht…”

“I care nothing for that demon’s fate Heinrich, or yours. Mourn his fall alone.” She purposely left the room and any other he chose to enter. Albrecht had been absolved, in part. All but that one imperfection seemed minor now. This house full of stranger’s belongings only reminded her of the unique treasure she’d created then been taught to shun.

Early one morning, before dawn, Frau Stein brought her bags downstairs. Johan waited at the front. He offered no empty words of comfort, merely a respectful pressure against her fingers as he assisted her into the car. They left house, school and associated horrors behind without a single backward glance.

Albrecht’s essays and letters burned in the grate.


	2. Mother Weimer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friedrich's mother worries as his letters begin to focus on one friend more than any other. His final letter disturbs her so much she must confide in her husband. He insists she tell their son he is welcome home whether he wins or loses the boxing tourney. Friedrich arrives unexpectedly after being expelled. Will he be allowed to stay?

Hans left for kindergarten still asking Mother why Father did not Friedrich going to a unique school. “Elite means perfect, yes?”

“Friedrich is already perfect,” Mother replied as she kissed Hans goodbye.

“He farts in bed.” Hans’ innocent protest made Mother laugh.

The absence of her sons was difficult to bear. Dinner and breakfast were too quiet although now she and Father had more to eat. Hans had written on his first day, albeit clumsily, but there had been no word from her eldest. Mother feared Friedrich believed her unfeeling so opened communications by means of a parcel and written request for correspondence. Friedrich wrote back almost immediately. This first letter warmed her heart, filled as it was with such friends and opportunities that he would never encounter in Wedding. He did not sound like SS, but remained her earnest, affectionate and enthusiastic Friedrich.

Mother compiled a list of names and their roles as described by Friedrich and referred to it often so she would know who he was writing about. Over time one name received greater focus in Friedrich's writing. His mother believed this Albrecht Stein was not merely a close friend but also a good influence on Friedrich – at first. Soon each mention of this boy made her uncomfortable.

_Albrecht insists Gauleiter Stein would not hold a funeral for his son's bunkmate let alone preside over it had he known Gladen was a bed-wetter, and that I was brave for hitting Peiner. I disagree, although we both agree Peiner should have covered the grenade. Then Siggi's problem could have been resolved more pleasantly. I find Albrecht's compliments easier to bear than his scoldings. His scoldings would be easier to bear if he raised his voice instead of calmly berating people like they should know better. His disapproving stare is almost as intimidating as yours, beloved Mother._

 

Frau Weimer was unsure whether Siggi and Gladen referred to the same boy since both names were unfamiliar. Her son made at least one complaint against sports leader Peiner in every letter, so she knew him well enough and shared Friedrich's opinion. This Stein boy was raised to be SS yet these 'scoldings' Friedrich described so frequently in no way resembled the bullying administered by Peiner and that awful Eighth Year boy who inspected their room each day. Albrecht seemed determined to prevent Friedrich becoming a jerk like Jaucher, and for that she must be grateful for this friendship. It didn't stop her worrying.

 

_...Albrecht's parents addressed me often yet never let him speak. His father forced us to box. I showed respect because they are Albrecht's family but I do not like either of them. I know none at home would treat Albrecht with such disrespect. Father spoke truly when he said we have nothing in common with these people. If I could bring Albrecht home in the summer I am sure Father would see NaPolA teaches more than war and then grant me permission to stay. I have enclosed the latest edition of the student news (without the obituaries) because Vogler praised Albrecht's article in class. Also - it's about me! And Allenstein's hopes to win the boxing tourney of course - which rests mostly upon my shoulders! Not nice to boast, I know, but since I cannot see your proud smile my beloved Mother I must settle for my own..._

 

There was too much emotion in Friedrich's letters to let her miss him properly. Joy, sorrow, disapproval, disappointment, pride - he held nothing back. She could feel and almost see him in the room with her, telling his family these things in person. Unfortunately this vision of Friedrich was never alone. Always a shade of this other boy sat beside him, close enough for their arms and thighs to touch. Friedrich described Albrecht in such detail that Frau Weimer felt certain to know him immediately and without introduction should their paths cross. Now Friedrich wanted to bring him home, and had already been to this boy's house for a family celebration. Her imagination showed them holding hands beneath the table, whispering intimately when they thought no-one could see, and worse – much, **much** worse. She did not reveal these suspicions in the presence of her husband or in writing to her son. She confided in no-one but God. Even praying about it proved difficult.

"…thank you for my loving husband and wonderful sons. I pray that you will protect them from evil as they do their best to make suitable choices." Her thoughts always begged God to prevent her eldest boy becoming a homosexual but the word never once reached her lips.

 

_Beloved Mother, I know not to how or what to write beyond ~~my dear~~ ~~my dear friend~~ ~~my dearest~~ comrade Albrecht is dead. The Steins blame me when only I tried breaking through the ice to save him. With all he has done for me I can do nothing in return. Not even print his obituary in the school news as used to be his job. Nothing is right. I am expected to box on Saturday, to make proud the school that killed him. I hope to be home in summer, if my beloved Father will let me. Anstaltsleiter says if I win this fight I may go to sport school in Berlin and train for Olympics. Tell Father I am sorry. At least I was no burden to him while studying here..._

 

Nothing is right. Mother felt the truth of those words but could not tell Friedrich so, not without saying why. Her husband found evidence of tears in her eyes on his return from the factory and demanded to know what made his heart cry. "Friedrich seeks your forgiveness," was all the reply Mother managed. She handed him the letter and hoped that would provide explanation enough.

"Who is this Albrecht?" Father asked.

"A friend, classmate," Mother answered calmly.

"Friedrich does not seem so sure. What does this mean 'all he has done for me?' Has he asked this classmate to provide for him instead of turning to me?"

"No. If you read any of his letters you would already know everything yourself."

"You are angry at me after taking such pains to hide the correspondence from me? I may never understand your reasoning woman, or Friedrich's. Why would he be blamed for his friend's death?"

The question was asked so quietly it demanded an answer. Oh, it was difficult to form the words. "It is possible... I suspect..."

"Wife, beloved wife," Father knelt before her and gently warmed her hand in both of his, "what sorrows do you hide from me?"

Mother removed her fingers from her husband's tender grasp so she could wring her skirt with both hands. "I believe they were lovers, or would have become so had this other not died."

Her husband mouthed the words 'my dearest Albrecht' as he stared at the page on the table. "Has he disgraced himself with this boy? Bah, clearly you do not know or you would have said it differently. Thank Christ for small mercies that our Friedrich didn't share his fate. How changed is he?"

"I cannot tell. Will you welcome him home?"

Father nodded solemnly. "Hopefully no irreparable damage has been done. We must make Friedrich feel this is his home so he will leave that terrible school, win or lose. Wish him luck in your next letter – from both of us." Her husband touched her hair and patted her shoulder before getting to his feet and kissing her forehead. "Enough of this sadness,” Father insisted. Mother nodded bravely and expressed her gratitude with a small smile. “You love your sons Mother. I would be a poor husband to sacrifice your happiness for their mistakes."

* * *

Friedrich arrived home on Sunday without warning. His eye, lips, cheek and chin were bruised and swollen but his mother saw deeper damage had occurred within. She hugged him close and wept to have him home. His tears frightened her. "Is this how the elite...?" Her jest was cut short when Friedrich spat on the floor. He filled the cramped room with anger, fervently denouncing school and Gestapo as he paced. His mother did not understand. "Did you lose or simply leave? What happened?"

"I was marched naked through the halls because I refused to box."

"Why did you refuse?"

His cold stare was the gaze of a soldier, not a son. Heartfelt words proved this young man was still Friedrich Weimer. "For Albrecht."

"What is he to you?" Mother asked. Dread compressed her heart from all directions. Her palm rested against her throat.

"The voice in my heart that demands mercy, honour and justice," Friedrich replied with solid confidence.

"You did not share love?" Mother asked carefully.

Friedrich shook his head. "Nothing immoral, criminal or unnatural passed between us."

Her relief was poisoned by his air of despair and regret. "Come Friedrich, have something to eat." She didn't know what else to say.

Father returned home while they were eating. "My wife entertaining a young man at my table! What scandal is this?" His jovial teasing warmed the house.

"Stop your nonsense Father. You see Friedrich has returned to us."

"With good news I hope? On your way to Berlin?" Father was being very careful not to start an argument.

"I lost the fight."

"Baby Gestapo begin boxing in the womb." Father took the news well until Friedrich confessed to losing on purpose. Then Father frowned. "You wish to remain there?" He did not mention the fates of Friedrich's dead roommates.

"No."

Mother tried to steer her husband to his seat along with the topic of conversation but her menfolk ignored her efforts.

"What are you about, Friedrich?" Father demanded.

"Allenstein would have claimed the honour of my victory when they deserve only the shame of my defeat."

"We can agree on that."

Mother inwardly praised her husband's civility. "Then we need hear no more..."

Friedrich was determined to speak. "Had Albrecht been alive he would want me to win honestly and with humanity. He would be proud and happy for me to move on to another school even though tomorrow would see him on his way to the Eastern Front. How could Gauleiter Stein be there, cheering me on with his smugly smiling face instead of mourning his son?" Friedrich looked at his father through stained eyes. "I saw nothing beyond gaining a secondary certificate at no cost to you. Albrecht showed me there is more than a monetary price to pay for such education as they provide. I still and always wanted to be like you my Father, not cruel men like that." His eyes returned sadly to his near-empty plate. "Albrecht did too. He openly expressed his disgust at the Gauleiter's lies."

Mother became lost in her son's tale of armed captives who were actually unarmed children. Her breath caught when his words were punctuated with silent tears.

"...asked if I was the one who shot him. Since we all shot at them it took me a while to realise he crudely referred to Albrecht. If we had weakened enough to act on our affection it would have immediately felt wrong. Then we could have laughed it off and become brothers again, vying for Katharina's attention. He would have chosen a different path. Now I'm left to wonder what Albrecht's love would feel like. My thoughts all end with question marks. How could friends feel deeply in love? Were we actually in love or merely confused? Should we have kissed to test? What woman would have his qualities? If I find such a woman to love me as he did then I will be the luckiest of men."

The Weimer family sat in silence. There was much in Friedrich's history to admire, pity, and scorn. Mother was grateful for kindergarten. Explaining this to Hans would be impossible.

Friedrich began rising from the table. "If you wish me to leave..."

"Sit." Father let no emotion stain his voice. "We must commend your honesty."

"Do not defend what you disapprove of, Father. Anstatsleiter lied to Albrecht's parents about the nature of our friendship only so Allenstein could beat another school at boxing. What does sport achieve, uh? I lost to make them see how I love his integrity and despise their hypocrisy. Albrecht himself would berate me then accept I could not do it differently."

Mother urged him to sit. "We need time to understand this too."

"What news of Hans?" Friedrich asked abruptly. Not even his younger brother's innocent adventures could lighten the mood.

* * *

They argued in the cold basement once Friedrich slept.

"He is confused and admitted as much. Already he sees sense and regrets his mistakes! He aims to find a woman, take a wife. You heard him. Here with us he will become our Friedrich again." Mother insisted.

Her husband sat dejectedly on the stair. "I heard everything. He hopes to do those things for our sake and his, but doesn't believe he will - or can." Mother attempted to interrupt. "Please, you do not understand man's code. I speak as a man and a father more than a husband. Friedrich does not want to forget this boy or stop loving him. The physical attraction frightens him because it refuses to go away. I am uneasy with that but do not wish to cast him out. This address and our names are on his enrolment papers. If he stays he will be found and taken. If he flees he can return. He is always welcome here Mother – but he cannot stay." Hearing her husband say so was devastating.

"No actual indiscretion..."

Father stopped her protest with a simple wave of his hand. "Do you think those people care? The man didn't mourn his own son! The **possibility** of indiscretion is crime enough."

"Then why did the school let him go?"

"So they can publicly arrest him and shame us all. His brother will become a target. The slightest misstep will see us crushed under their perfectly polished boots."

"What will happen to Friedrich?"

"Labour camp at a guess, if they can prove anything."

Blackmailing another student into providing evidence of an affair seemed Peiner's style. Friedrich reached a similar conclusion since Mother discovered him packing during the night. She forced him to take everything she could scrape together. “Promise you will return, Friedrich. We love you. Hans…”

“Once I am certain you are safe I will come home, until then I will write – but only to stop you worrying.”

Mother clung to him. “Say farewell to Father this time, please. He does not condemn you.”

Friedrich nodded and obeyed her wish. They behaved as men, without displaying tears or fear. The reason for Friedrich’s departure was never mentioned.

* * *

Hans received two simple and encouraging letters from Friedrich per year. Mother and Father only received Christmas cards until a parcel arrived from Amsterdam in 1949. Friedrich had reimbursed his Mother’s parting gifts and enclosed two photographs. The first was dated March 1942 and showed six boys in NaPolA uniforms. Mother did not need to read the names handwritten on the back to identify Albrecht Stein. He was just as Friedrich described. Next was a recent image of Friedrich with another young man. Christoph Schneider had been Friedrich’s first friend at Allenstein and one of few students who survived the Last Struggle. His remaining arm was around Friedrich but there was sadness behind their smiles.

“Ah, see – this one is jealous. Even in the first picture.” Father pointed to prove his observation. “Friedrich was a catalyst if not the source of their distress. Poor young men, it seems that room was doomed.”

Mother agreed and thought a sympathetic prayer for their souls. “Should I wish them happiness or pretend I believe they are merely friends in my reply?” she asked Father.

He thought carefully, taking until morning to answer. “Wish them happiness. Invite them for Christmas. I will have a manly talk with Hans tomorrow.” Mother was surprised to hear Hans’ laughter during this talk. “He found Friedrich’s school letters years ago,” Father explained with a grimace.

“But Hans hates walnut cake!” She’d kept those letters beneath the lining of that particular tin specifically.

“A boy will eat anything once he’s hungry enough.”

“Then why did he laugh?”

“Hans found my definitions amusing.”

* * *

Mother came home from market and accidentally overheard an argument between Friedrich and Christoph.

“…not asking you to come with me.”

“You expect me to stay in your family’s home while you wail at a frozen lake? He is dead Friedrich! His corpse eaten by fish…”

 **SLAP** “Next time I’ll use my fist.”

“You would never treat him this way.”

“He would never have spoken so disrespectfully had your situations been reversed. How can you expect me to stop comparing you to Albrecht when you do it yourself, uh? Every day you fatigue me in this way.”

“Your refusal to let him go compels me. Answer truthfully Friedrich, who do you embrace in your sleep?”

Silence prompted Mother to touch her hand to the front door. Christoph spoke again before she opened it. 

“Memories of Albrecht are all you desire of me.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Then spend Christmas Eve with me.”

“Let me farewell Albrecht my way Christoph. If it wasn’t for him would either of us have the courage to be together now?”

“I suppose not.”

“He is no threat to you. Not once did we say the words ‘I love you’ or share a kiss. These things I do with you.”

“His influence guides everything you do.”

“Your turn to answer honestly – are these bad behaviours?”

“No,” Christoph admitted. “Albrecht moulded you like a master artist, only adding to your perfection. I hate him for having the courage to love you so openly.”

“He left me without warning, no written comfort or explanation, only questions. How is that love?” Friedrich demanded to know.

“I watched him sit on the ice Friedrich, ready to sneer because it seemed unlikely he’d go in. His face was a mask of self-loathing as he made up his mind but he waited until you left the second air hole. He made sure you were safe. Perverted remarks about Albrecht became more disgusting once you deliberately exposed a relationship that should have remained rumour. You left his tormented soul alone and defenceless. How is **that** love?”

Mother mourned. Her son and his friends had been so confused, so afraid. Adulthood hadn’t eased their turmoil. She noisily opened the door. “I still can’t believe both sons are home for Christmas!” Mother declared with exaggerated joy and a genuine hug for Friedrich. “And you too,” she added with a warm embrace for Christoph. Where else would they learn about love if not from her?


End file.
